


Maybe one day, you'll remember that you used to love me.

by Justafewthingstosay



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Martin's relationship with his mother, Neglect, feelings of worthlessness, him bringing her to the nursing home, spoilers for S3 finale, this is just me writing sad things, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:26:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25106932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justafewthingstosay/pseuds/Justafewthingstosay
Summary: The last time Martin Blackwood saw his mother.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	Maybe one day, you'll remember that you used to love me.

**Author's Note:**

> I just. I'm sad about Martin okay?

The sun shined as Martin packed the car. 

The heat of it burned on his skin and he hated that he had put on a pullover this morning. He couldn't have expected the heat to get this bad, but he already knew that his mother was going to tell him that he should have known better. 

"Martin! Are you done?" He heard coming from inside the house that their flat was in and Martin sighed, before shutting the boot with hesitation.

  
“Yes, mum. I’m done,” he replied, his tone defeated and quiet. “Are you sure you want to do this? I can take care of you here, you don’t need to leave,” he added, knowing that his voice was filled with a desperation that she would never understand. She would never understand why a son might want his mother close. It wasn’t like she ever wanted him close. It wasn’t like he never was a burden on her and her money, and her time. 

“I’m sure. You can’t take care of me, not well enough,” she said as she walked out of the door, her cane by her side. Her voice was laced with the slightest hint of disdain, and if you wouldn’t know her you might have missed it, but this was Martin’s mother, so he didn’t miss it. 

He just walked over to the passenger side door and opened it for her, ready to help her inside, in case her knees gave her issues, but she just situated herself carefully and pulled the door close. 

Martin didn’t know why he was surprised by her acting like that, it had happened many times before but that didn’t mean that the wound didn’t still bleed whenever she acted like this. 

So he kept the emotions that were bleeding out of him safely hidden under his pullover and for the briefest second his mind conjured up the metaphor of him being bitten by a zombie and not telling anyone until it was too late. 

A smile almost crept upon his face at that, before he heard a “Are you going to bloody drive me there or do you expect the car is going to go by itself?” and the smile dropped. 

Right. He had something to do, so he got into the car and started driving down the stressful streets of London, until they reached what would be his mother’s forever home.

The building still struck him as odd. It was beautiful but, at the same time, it had too many rough angles, just like his mother, his brain supplied and he shook his head.

There was no point in thinking about it like that. His mother loved him, in her own weird special way, but she loved him. At least he hoped so.

As soon as the car was parked, Martin got out to open up the passenger side door to help his mother, but she was already halfway out when he got there, and when he offered a hand she didn’t even look at it. 

So, he just went to the boot and started pulling out her suitcases. They were two heavy softshell cases, they hadn’t seen much travel in life, due to the fact that they never really had enough money to do so. They had bought them during their first move, after Martin’s father had left. 

He assumed that this was going to be their last journey.

As he was done pulling them out of the boot, his mother was already at the door, the automatic doors sliding open to let her in and for a second, Martin thought it looked like she was being swallowed. Finally taken from him, like she had wanted for so long. Finally getting what she wished for.

For a moment he had the thought that his mother might have preferred to die than to be stuck with him for longer, but that thought didn’t stick around for long as another car pulled up and he got pulled out of his head. 

The suitcases weighed him down, that was the only explanation that he allowed to give himself for walking so slowly, for his feet barely taking the next step forward. It was the suitcases, nothing more.

When he entered the lobby, he saw his mother talking to one of the nurses and he saw her smile. He hadn’t seen her smile in a long time, a rare treat that he normally only got to see when she was too tired to be mad or watching something on telly. 

Talking to this nurse, though, his mother seemed to be actively enjoying herself. Martin wondered what that must feel like, to get that kind of attention from the woman that was his mother, but before he could delve deeper into it, the nurse and his mother started to move, and he needed to make sure he knew which room she was in, so he followed. 

The layout of the home was an easy one, the carpet on the floor was nice and the general attitude seemed to be happy, no wonder that his mother wanted to rather be here than at home. 

They reached her room decently quickly and even though it was small, it seemed sweet, homey. 

Martin dropped off the suitcases and immediately the nurse came over to him. “Oh, you must be Mr Blackwood, I didn’t see you when your mother walked in. I’m Theresa,” she had a kind smile and soft eyes, but the skin on her hands was calloused from her work, which he noticed when he took her hand to shake it. 

“Your mother told me that she is pretty tired and that she would rather be alone for a while, so if you don’t mind to talk about the last things that need checking in the lobby, that would be wonderful,” she gave him a smile. “I will wait there for you,” she said before she turned and left.

  
  


Martin was alone with his mother, which he sometimes just called completely alone. It wasn’t like he was going to get any comfort from her, especially not now it seemed. 

He just walked over to her, smiling what he hoped was a loving smile, before he leaned down to kiss her cheek. Before his lips could connect, she tilted her head to the side. Moving out of his reach and he just pulled back. Martin was always one that knew when to pick his battles. 

This wasn’t one that he could win.

But the words that tumbled out of his mouth seconds later couldn’t be stopped, they had a mind of their own and if Martin could have done anything, he would have stopped them.

“Please don’t make me leave,” he whispered, loud enough for his mother to hear, but not important enough to get any sort of reaction from her.

So he moved away, walking out of the door, with a soft “Bye, Mum. I’ll see you on Saturday,” before he made his way to the lobby. Theresa was standing there, a pamphlet in her hand and a smile on her lips. 

She reminded him of the visiting hours, the phone number that would reach directly into his mother’s room and how they organised mail. 

And then, she was gone and he was standing in a cold and empty lobby all by himself. His feet carried him without any input from his brain, just one step after the other, slowly and carefully moving forward, until he came back to himself in his car, almost home. 

But he didn’t drive home, he took the turn onto the motorway and he just let himself drive, until the sinking feeling of his mother moving away from his affection had stopped clawing at his stomach. When every single breath that he took didn’t feel like it was covered in needles. 

He drove until the sun wasn’t shining anymore and then he drove some more.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry


End file.
